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oneforthemunny · 1 year ago

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candy caned |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: you’re desperate to make eddie’s trailer more festive for the holidays. you bring over decorations, but eddie is only interested in one- a long, plastic candy cane.

apart of the twelve days of dom!eddie's christmas

contains: smut. 18+. dom/sub themes, hints at brat tamer/brat themes. spanking with implements (candy cane lol). role play-ish?? not really established but kinda alluded to it a little. aftercare. minors dni, read at your own discretion.

A cloud of smoke left Eddie’s lips, corners of his mouth pulling up into a half lipped smirk. Your car propelled over the gravel of the trailer park’s makeshift road, a playful beep of your horn. Eddie gave a small laugh, the air in front of him clouding at the contrast. He could hear the droning of George Michael’s Last Christmas, muffled from your car stereo but a reminder of why you were here.

Eddie bummed the cigarette when you turned off the ignition, the radio silencing but that didn’t stop you. “Last Christmas, I gave you my heeearrrttt.” Your door swung open, voice trilling out into the quiet, rainy park. Eddie grinned, shoving his hands in his utility jacket, starting down the groaning steps of his trailer.

“But the very next day,” You wiggled your brows at Eddie playfully, a toothy grin on your face that made his chest fill with a surge of heat. “C’mon, Ed, you know it!” You pouted playfully.

“Yeah, I do. Everyone on planet fuckin’ Earth knows it.” Eddie snorted, heavy work boots nudging your own Sorels. His hands found your cheek, pressing a soft, full lipped kiss to your warm skin. The nicotine on his breath made your head spin, melting into his touch.

Eddie’s lips quirked, fighting back a smile. “Still not singing it, though.” He muttered, fingers squishing your cheeks together playfully, pivoting towards your trunk.

The huff you gave did make him grin. “Such a Scrooge.” You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “No holiday spirit at all.”

Eddie waited by the trunk, eyes shining in amusement while you unlocked your trunk. His eyes widened, gaping at you in disbelief. “You’re shitting me.”

“What?” You frowned, reaching for the bundle of lights, tangled from the half-hearted place in your apartment’s pitiful storage.

“Baby,” Eddie blinked, positively confounded. When you’d suggested bringing some decorations over, he expected a few knick-knacks, maybe a tiny tree. Not the trunk full of Christmas decor, looking like something straight out of a Macy’s display window he’d pass in the city.

“There’s… This is a lot.” Eddie tried not to sound as horrified as he felt.

You frowned at him over your shoulder, hauling the tote bag with your Zellers Christmas Village in it over your arm. “You said you didn’t have anything.”

“I don’t.” Eddie nodded, scanning over the tubs- tubs, plural- of ornaments. “But-But you didn’t have to bring all of this. What about your place?”

You rolled your eyes lightly. “I barely stay there.” It was true, you’d slowly migrated into Eddie’s space over the months, staying more and more. “And you have more space. More decorating room.” The smile you gave him was bright, dazzling and excited.

Eddie’s was… less enthusiastic, a mix between a grimace and dread. Still, he grabbed the box of stacked ornaments, the glass rattling as he walked up the stairs, following your giddy steps into the trailer.

“No! Not so close to the edge!” You shrieked, Eddie nearly dropping the snowman figurine in his hand.

He’d been a good sport, he really had. Eddie didn’t complain when you handed him the tangled lights. He kept his snarky comments to himself when you had him fluff out the tree branches to the plastic tree. He’d come close to snapping when you busted out the Elvis Christmas album, but he didn’t- he tuned it out, focused on anything else.

The trailer was transformed, a Christmas wonderland, complete with the final touches of the snowmen and Santas on the window ledge. You pushed the snowman back, tilting it to your satisfaction, nodding with approval.

Eddie let you. The two of you had established a ‘system’- he’d put it out, and you went behind him and fixed it how you wanted it. “What about these, baby?” Eddie hummed, picking up the bundle of plastic, long candy canes. “These go on the tree?”

“No,” You shook your head, placing the last figurine on the window. “They go outside. We can do them when it’s not raining.”

Eddie turned the candy canes around in his hand, thin and spindly, intertwined plastic red and white that were long. He pulled one out by the hook, shaking it gently- testing it. Eddie brought it down, the swoosh whistling just barely over the music from his boombox.

“Don’t break them.” You frowned, twisting an ornament so it faced forward. “Just put them to the side. We can do them tomorrow if you want.”

Eddie stayed quiet, brows pinched together, tongue rolling over the inside of his cheek. You paused, watching him carefully as he studied the cane.

“You know what?” Eddie hummed, his eyes still on the red and white cane in his hand. “I think I have an idea.”

“What?” You looked at him, scanning the room for any spare place for the decoration.

“I can think of something better to do with this.” Eddie’s lips curled, intriguingly dark. “It would really get me in this whole most wonderful time of the year mood.” His tone animated, dark and mocking the way it was when he played DND with his friends, when they were about to be presented with a dangerous risk of a choice. It made your heart skip.

“What?” You repeated, brow quipping, waving your hand for him to continue.

Eddie’s eyes lit up, twinkling with excitement under the glow of the colorful strands on the tree. He lifted the cane, cutting it through the air with a satisfied swish!, holding your gaze with a darkened look of desire.

Your tummy flipped, heat rushing through your core, thighs pressing together at the insinuation.

Eddie lifted a brow. “Think you need it. Probably on the naughty list. Aren’t ya, baby?” He purred, spinning the cane in his hand. You squirmed under his gaze, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater.

“‘M not.” You shuddered, shrinking under Eddie’s greedy gaze. “I’ve been very good this year.”

Eddie sucked in a dramatic breath through his teeth, stalking towards you until he was towering over you. “Hmm, that’s not what I heard, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered, nose nearly touching yours.

Your knees tightened, wobbling with excitement. “Good news is,” Eddie started, letting the candy cane slide through his hands, brushing over your own. “It’s not too late. Can correct you now. Teach you a lesson and make sure you’ll be extra good.”

This wasn’t exactly what you were expecting after decorating. You had hoped the decor would maybe bring some holiday spirit to Eddie, and in a way… it did?

“I want to be a good girl.” You squeaked, tiny and breathy tone that had Eddie’s cock twitching in his jeans.

“Yeah? I can tell.” Eddie nodded, hands clamping around the plastic decoration. “I can make sure you are.” Eddie’s hand reached for your jaw, fingers splaying over your cheeks, pulling your gaze to him. “You just gotta ask me.”

You whimpered behind closed lips, the throb between your legs growing and growing. Eddie tilted his head, curls silhouetted by the tree’s lights. He looked nearly angelic, so pretty- it was so deceiving.

“C’mon,” Eddie rasped, thumb stroking over your cheekbone delicately. “Ask me to help you be a good girl.”

You squirmed in his touch, eyes casting down. His hand caught your jaw quickly, pulling your gaze to him. “Please…” You swallowed, heart thumping from the thrill of anticipation. “Please, help me be a good girl? I wanna be a good girl.”

Eddie smiled, satisfied. A gentle, affectionate squeeze to your cheeks. “Alright, I’ll help you.” He nodded, stepping back from you. His arms crossed over his chest, candy cane in his left hand, dangling loosely in his grasp.

“Strip for me.” Eddie nodded, tongue running down his cheek, taking in your frame. Your red sweater, cropped and positively festive.

Your hands quaked with anticipation, unbuttoning your jeans carefully, shoving them so they pooled at your sock clad feet. Eddie watched you, leaning cooly against the couch, eyes roaming your frame until you were just in a high cut, cotton thong and lacy bra- his favorite. He had helped you pick it out, snuck in the dressing room when the snobby lingerie store manager stepped away so you could model it for him.

You looked at him, arms down by your sides, the way he’d taught you to. Eddie lifted a brow, head bobbing at you. “C’mon, keep going.”

“All of it?” You whined. “Eddie, can I keep my panties on please? You know I hate the cane-”

“-All of it.” Eddie snapped firmly. “You wanna be good? You’re not acting like you wanna be good. Still acting like a brat. Still acting like a naughty girl.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, lip jutting out in a pout that had Eddie’s abs clenching at the throb in his cock. You knew what you were doing, giving him your most pitiful, pouty look to drive Eddie wild. It was working.

Eddie’s brow lifted, a final warning that he was done arguing, eyes flicking down to your panties, heart skipping when your fingers hooked around them, pulling them slowly down your legs.

Your hands found your sides again, palms twitching with excitement, smoothing down the top of your bare thighs. Eddie waited until your eyes lifted to his, holding your gaze for just a touch too long- long enough to have you squirming with anticipation.

“Bend over the couch for me. Hands in front.” Eddie nodded, his voice dropping into that dark rasp it always did when he’d step into this domineering role with you.

The faded green carpet lacked it’s usual softness, coated with glitter from the decor and you hadn’t got a chance to vacuum yet. The usual crocheted blanket was folded over the arm of the couch, a reindeer throw pillow next to it. You set the pillow in front of you, so you’d have something to grab onto, bending over the arm of the couch.

Your eyes stayed forward, Eddie’s hum of approval muffled out by his heavy soled footsteps moving closer to you. “Hm, how many strokes does a naughty girl deserve?” Eddie sighed animatedly. He was putting on a show for you, for him too.

“What do you think?” Eddie tapped the side of your hip lightly with the cane, dragging the cool plastic over your ass.

You shuddered, the hook of the candy cane ghosting over the crack of your cheeks. “I don’t know, sir.” You grit, eyes closing, fighting the quake in your voice. “Three?”

“Three?” Eddie scoffed, halting his movements, the hook side of the cane pressed against the fatty flesh under your ass. “Try again, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know.” You whined, toes wiggling into the carpet. You were throbbing, dizzy with the desire for Eddie to touch you, spank you, fuck you- do something to you.

“Hm, better watch it, naughty girl.” Eddie hissed, eyes narrowed in on your ass. He pressed the cane up, lifting your cheek so he could sneak a peek at your puffy lips, already slick with your own arousal. “Can see why you got on the naughty list. Little bratty thing, aren’t ya?”

“‘M not.” You pouted, chin dropping into your outstretched arms.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true.” Eddie tsked, the cane moving closer and closer to your pussy. “And I think you should get a stroke for every month you were naughty this year. Twelve.”

You squirmed, hips wiggling and rocking in place. Eddie grinned, smoothing a hand over your spine. You jumped, relaxing under the familiar touch. “How’s that sound?” Eddie muttered, tapping your shoulder blade gently.

You turned back, chin hooking on your shoulder to meet his gaze. “Twelve?” Eddie asked, his hand still rubbing over your spine soothingly, like he did every night to lull you to sleep.

It made your heart swell with a warmth that had your cheeks burning with tingly heat. “Yeah.” You whispered, squeaking at the small squeeze Eddie gave your hip.

Eddie’s hand rubbed back down your spine, setting the candy cane on your upturned ass, shedding his sweatshirt slowly. “Think you’ll remember to be good this year after this?” Eddie questioned, tossing his sweatshirt on the chair behind him.

“Yes, sir.”

“You know what happens next year if you’re not good, right? If you’re on the naughty list again?” Eddie grabbed the cane slowly, dragging it over your ass and thighs.

“No, sir, I don’t.” You choked out, clenching the pillow in front of you.

“You get double.” Eddie said surely, bringing the cane down behind you. You felt the air on your skin, knees tightening with expectancy, the lingering threat looming closer and closer. “After that, I’ll just have to come down here every month. Cane you and make sure you get a monthly reminder to be good.”

You whined behind closed lips, hips lifting at the threat. Eddie grinned, lining the candy cane up to your ass. “And believe me, if I have to come down every month, take time outta my schedule to teach you a lesson, I won’t be as nice as this. You better consider yourself lucky this time. Better learn from it.”

“I will.” You panted, arms shaking from how hard you were clenching them. “I’ll be good from now on. I promise.” You sounded so sweet. Tone so airy and pouty and adorable, that tone that made Eddie’s vision blurry with desire.

“Good.” Eddie nodded, tapping the cane against your ass. “I’ll make sure of it. Count ‘em out for me, baby.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose. The cane pulled back, a whoosh! filling the air before it was snapping into your skin, a biting sting from the plastic spreading in a line across your cheeks. Your hips jumped, a tiny huff of a whine leaving your lips at the shock. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the wooden cane Eddie used in the past, but still uncomfortable.

“One,” You breathed out through gritted teeth.

Eddie lined up the cane again, higher this time, before it was pulled back and sailing onto your bare skin, harder. Hard enough to have your head snapping up, toes bouncing off the carpet.

“Two!” You squeaked, Eddie’s hand on the small of your spine to steady you.

He watched you carefully. If this was the normal cane, you’d be crying by now- sniffly in the least. He lined it up lower, where your ass met your thighs. He lifted his hand, bringing the cane down with the type of strength he used with his hard soled slipper, hard and quick, pulling the sound he was looking for right out of you.

The yowl, punched straight out of your core, back arching and hips wiggling away. “Ow! Ow! Three!” You hissed, a white knuckled grip on the pillow. Your nose burned, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes now, the sting was searing now, leaving a sizzling sting that had you bouncing from foot to foot.

Eddie smirked in satisfaction, stilling you again with his hand firm on your lower back. “You learning your lesson?” Eddie grunted, the candy cane falling back down again, that white line imprinting your skin before disappearing, your cry following like clockwork.

“Yes!” You whined, and the petulant, bratty foot stomp that followed had Eddie’s cock lurching. “Four!”

“You’re gonna be really good this year, aren’t ya?” Eddie growled.

Swish!

“Yes! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” You groaned, a watery, pathetic wail. “Five!” You bounced from toe to toe over the couch, hips shaking like you could possibly shake the sting out that way. The ache between your legs was blinding, rivaling the sting growing furiously on your backside.

Another stroke came before you were ready, quicker than the last time but just as unforgivingly searing. You cried out, a bubbling sob that tore from your throat. “You gonna make me do this again? Gonna be on the naughty list again?”

“Noooo,” You cried out. Your face rubbed against your arms, snotty cries from a burning nose and throat that you tried to soothe.

“What number was that?” Eddie tapped the cane lightly against you.

“Six.” You muttered, so pitifully sweet it made Eddie’s heart burst. The sniffle that followed was even more piteous, wet and snotty and somehow still bratty.

“Hm, ‘s not lookin’ great, baby.” Eddie teased, the cane snapping against your sore skin. “Already forgettin’.”

“Se-even.” You sobbed, head pressed into your arms, slack over the couch.

Eddie was nearly drooling, watching the way your hips rocked onto the arm of the couch for friction, catching glimpses of your pussy.

“You wanna be on the nice list.” Eddie nodded, striping you again right across the middle of your ass.

“Eight.”

“You know what nice girls get?” Eddie pressed, watching your shoulders shudder before he caned you, higher this time.

“No!” You hissed, knees buckling and legs quaking after the hit. “Nine.”

“Good girls who are on the nice list,” Eddie leaned forward, hovering over your squirming frame. “Get their pussies eaten out.” You whimpered, hips grinding down harder on the arm of the couch. “They get my tongue used on them as a reward for being so good.”

“Please, Ed, please.” You babbled, throbbing, needy, and your mind already numbed with the overwhelming sensation of pleasure and pain. “Please.”

“Nuh-uh-uh.” Eddie tsked, shaking his head at you. “You haven’t been good.” His hand rubbed over the hot skin of your ass, tickling just above your hidden pussy, grinning at the whine you gave. You stomped, huffing into the couch. There she was, the little brat he loved to play with.

“If you were good,” Eddie grunted, swinging the cane back and forward into your burning skin. You wailed, hand slapping into the couch, clawing at the cushion to keep yourself from reaching back. “You’d get eaten out.”

“T-Ten.” You whimpered, a pouty sound. Eddie could practically see your face- brows creased in a frown, lip jutted, tear stained cheeks and a runny nose.

“I’d use my tongue on you,” Eddie purred. You whined, nasally and desperate, hips swiveling down for friction. “I’d make you cum over and over and over.”

You gasped when the cane cut into your ass with an unforgiving snap, an inflamed imprint left in its wake. “Eleven.”

“I’d even let you sit on my face so you could grind down just like that.” Eddie teased, tapping your rocking hips with the cane lightly. “Let you do that on my face instead of on the couch, rubbing your pussy all over my couch like that when you’re getting spanked. Seems awfully naughty, if you ask me.” He tutted.

Your toes curled, his words were cruel, teasing, made your body burn with embarrassed heat- yet you were so close.

“I don’t think you’re gonna be very good this year. Don’t know if I believe you.” Eddie shook his head. “You’re supposed to be getting punished, not enjoying this.”

“I-I’m not.” You panted, shaking your head furiously.

“You’re not?” Eddie scoffed, setting the cane to rest on your ass. His hand dipped between your thighs, fingertips sliding through your sopping folds easily, smirking at the gasp that tore from your throat.

Eddie’s finger sunk into your soaking hole, pumping in and out at an agonizingly slow pace that had your head lifting, eyes pinched in pleasure. You were close, he could feel it, feel it in the way you clenched and strangled around his finger. He pulled away just as quickly as he put them in, your eyes flying open at the loss.

“What-”

“Look at this,” Eddie commanded, his fingers coated with your sticky arousal, pointer and middle finger spreading, webs of your slick forming with ever widening of his fingers. “You think someone not enjoying this would have that? Hm? Look at it.”

Your cheeks were scorching with heat, lifting your gaze shyly to his dangling fingers in front of your face, shaking your head lightly.

Eddie hummed in satisfaction, pulling his hand back, wiping your release over your burning ass. You yelped, jumping at the burn of his touch on your sore skin. Eddie’s lips curled, grabbing the candy cane off your hips.

“Last one.” Eddie muttered, lining the festive decoration up against your skin, tapping gently. “You ready, baby?”

“‘M ready.” You sighed, cheek pressed into your outstretched arms.

Eddie was sure he was about to bust at the sight of you- glassy eyed, sniffling lightly, whimpering with every roll of your hips. Oh, it was too fuckin’ much.

Eddie brought the cane down hard- hard enough he thought it might snap in half. The final blow that had you gasping, a strangled whine huffing out of your chest in a gasping heave before your body tensed, quivering at the sensation the impact left.

“T-Twelve.” You whimpered, cheek pressed against your arm, so spacy in ecstasy you were dribbling out of the corner of your mouth.

Your ass was stinging with that itchy, red-hot irritation that had you desperate to rub it out, only you knew it would only make the ache worse. You were throbbing between the legs, slick and frustrated, desperate for him to touch you.

Eddie’s hand skated in a feather light touch over your ass, passing so delicately over each of your lips, coated with your own slickness. “You learned your lesson?” Eddie hummed, swallowing the spit that filled his mouth at the sight of you, presented so perfectly over the arm of the couch for him- for him to fuck you.

“Ready to be a good girl? Be on the nice list?” His hand didn’t stop, sliding down the inside of your thigh, pushing lightly so you’d spread your legs.

“Yeah,” You sighed, airy and a little pouty, cheek still pressed to the couch pillow.

“Yeah? Look at me, baby.” Eddie patted your thigh gently, hovering over you.

You blinked, looking up at him with sweet, glassy, rounded eyes. “You alright?” Eddie asked, scanning your features carefully, testing the waters of where you were.

“Yeah.” You hummed, lip jutting ever so lightly. “I’ll be good now.”

“I know you will.” Eddie nodded. “Are you alright? You with me, baby?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, shimmying your body so it contorted and angled towards him. “I’m ready to be good, so you can fuck me now.” The bluntness of your words mixed with the light, breathy tone, so deceivingly sweet- it made Eddie’s head spin.

“Yeah?” He grinned, dimples creasing. “I was gettin’ to that, baby.”

“You can get to it now.” You hummed, slipping out of that hazy fog that he always got you in, back into your bratty ways. Eddie’s lips twitched, biting back a smirk. “‘M ready for it. I’ll be really good this year.”

“Alright, you earned it, I guess.” Eddie teased, pulling you by the small of your waist back up the arm of the couch. “How you want me, babe? This good?”

“Yeah, just let me-” You snatched the pillow in front of you, pushing it under your chest. “Ready.”

“You sure are, holy shit.” Eddie muttered, eyes glued to your parted thighs, your sopping cunt making his head reel at the sight. “You gonna be a good girl? Be my good girl?”

“Yes,” You whine, hips wiggling back further to him. “I’ll be good, so good, please.”

Eddie slipped two fingers into your sopping hole, pumping in and out just as slow as before. Your toes curled, body jolting with that euphoric, white hot bolts of pleasure. A small whine, quiet but pathetically desperate slipped from your lips.

Another whine followed, huffier this time, more demanding. “Alright, alright, I gotcha.” Eddie gritted, pumping his shaft slowly, smearing his own pre-leakages over his head, down his shaft. “I gotcha. Relax, baby.”

Your vision blurred at the feeling of him pushing into you, that achingly familiar stretch, your walls tightening with every slow roll of his hips further and further into you. Your ass was raw with the still fresh strokes of the cane, Eddie’s hips and groin snapping into the irritated skin with a purposeful punch of his cock inside of you.

Tears brimmed your eyes, of pleasure or pain or both, you weren’t really sure. The sensation was enough to have you mindless, cheek smushed into the couch cushion, whimpering. “Fuck, you gonna be my good girl? Be my-my nice girl?” Eddie hissed, eyes half-lidded, hypnotized by the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock with every roll of his hips.

“Yeah.” You whined, a ghosting of a whimper tailing on your words.

“Yeah.” Eddie grunted in a mocking tone, fingers sinking into the fat of your hips. “Holy fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good. You know that? ‘Course you know that. This feel good? Am I makin’ you feel good, baby?” His hand fell on your ass, a stinging hand print left in its wake on your already sensitive skin.

You yelped, head snapping up at the impact, red manicured nails curling around the needlepoint pillow, grappling at the loopy stitches while Eddie plowed into you from the back. Fingers bruising your hips and waist from the way Eddie was using your body to fuck himself, until he finally halted, heavy breathing gasps of pleasure. He pulled out, a thick stream of his own release drooling out of you and towards the faded floral upholstery.

Somehow, the lights on the trees and strung along the walls seemed brighter now, with you curled into his neck. Eddie blew the smoke away from you, towards the chilly night air that crept in from the open window.

“I think I kinda get it.” Eddie muttered, a hand rubbing down your back soothingly, pulling you out of your post orgasm hazy state. You hummed, nuzzling into his chest, curling into his body for warmth from the breeze that swept in. “Get why you like all this stuff.”

You lifted your gaze, eyes still glowing with the remnants of emotion, but rounding in the sweetest way. “Yeah? You gettin’ in the spirit, Munson?” You giggled softly.

Eddie snorted lightly, rolling the cigarette between his pointer and thumb over the ashtray. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “You lettin’ me spank you with a candy cane really got me in the spirit, babe.” You laughed, head dropping to his shoulder, eyes batting up at his.

The candy canes lined the path to Eddie’s trailer the next day. You helped him put them out in the freezing cold, occasionally rubbing your tender ass when he’d swish the decoration playfully, eyes dark and dazzling at you. One lone candy cane stayed inside, hanging on Eddie’s bedroom door knob to make it look more festive, or so he said.

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bradleysass · 8 days ago

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Xmas Cards - @noblehouseofgay - word count: 653 - 25 Days of Jegumas

The streets of Godric’s Hollow glistened with frost, each breath forming a soft puff of mist in the air. James Potter adjusted his scarf, glancing down at his son, who was bundled up in a red coat that made him look like a tiny Gryffindor snowman.

“Alright, Harry,” James said, crouching to meet his son’s wide-eyed gaze. “We’ve got one mission: find the perfect Christmas card for your Papa Regulus. Think you’re up to it?”

Harry nodded earnestly, his messy black hair poking out from under his knitted hat. “Yes, Daddy! Papa needs the best card ever!”

James grinned and ruffled Harry’s hair. “That’s the spirit. Let’s make it happen.”

The father-son duo entered the quaint little stationery shop on the corner of the village square. The bell above the door jingled merrily as they stepped inside. The warm air was thick with the scent of parchment and pine, and festive music played softly in the background. Shelves were lined with colorful cards, glittering ribbons, and rows of shiny ornaments.

Harry immediately darted toward a display of Christmas cards, his small hands grabbing at the nearest ones. James followed, amused as his son began sorting through them with the intensity of a Quidditch Seeker.

“This one’s nice,” James said, holding up a tasteful card adorned with a snowy scene of a stag and a doe under a crescent moon. “What do you think?”

Harry scrunched up his face. “Too boring. Papa likes fun stuff!”

James chuckled. “Fair enough. Let’s keep looking.”

After several minutes of browsing, Harry let out an excited squeal and held up a card. James turned to see what his son had found and burst into laughter. The card featured a cartoonishly grumpy owl wearing a Santa hat, with the words “HOOT HOOT HOLIDAY CHEER (OR WHATEVER)” emblazoned across the front in bold, glittery letters.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” James said, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. “Your Papa’s going to love it.”

Harry beamed. “It’s funny! Papa likes owls.”

“He does,” James agreed, taking the card and inspecting it. “Alright, let’s grab this one. Good work, kiddo.”

At the counter, Harry insisted on handing the card to the shopkeeper himself. The elderly witch behind the counter gave Harry a warm smile as she rang up their purchase.

“Getting a card for someone special?” she asked.

Harry nodded vigorously. “For my Papa! He’s the bestest ever!”

James’ heart swelled as he watched his son’s enthusiasm. “That he is,” James said, sliding a few Sickles across the counter. “And we’re going to make sure he knows it.”

With the card safely tucked away, James and Harry made their way back home, where the Christmas tree sparkled in the window. Regulus was sitting on the couch, a steaming mug of tea in hand and a contented look on his face as he read a book.

“We’re back!” James announced, ushering Harry inside.

Regulus looked up, his grey eyes lighting up at the sight of his family. “Find anything interesting?”

Harry bounded over to him, the card clutched in his hands. “Papa, we got you something!”

Regulus set his book aside and accepted the card, his lips quirking in amusement as he took in the grumpy owl on the front. “Well, this is… charming,” he said, his tone dry but his eyes warm. “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry climbed onto the couch and hugged Regulus tightly. “You’re welcome, Papa! Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Regulus said, kissing the top of Harry’s head. He glanced over at James, who was leaning against the doorway with a smug grin. “Your sense of humor is rubbing off on him, you know.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” James replied, winking.

As the evening wore on, the card found its place on the mantel, front and center. It stood among other decorations, a silly yet heartfelt reminder of the love that filled their little family.

#25daysofjegumas #25 days of jegumas #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #sunwater #james potter #regulus black

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snowyslytherinowl · 1 year ago

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The First Perfect Christmas

PAIRING: Severus Snape x Reader

SUMMARY: For the first time in Severus's life, he won't be celebrating Christmas alone. This time, he'll spend the holidays with you, his girlfriend. Since it's your favorite holiday, Severus tries to get you every Christmas gift on your wishlist. But when not all the items you want are available, Severus worries that he'll ruin your Christmas and disappoint you.

Warning: a very brief reference to child/domestic abuse and there's angst, but there's nothing intense. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and even if you don’t, I hope you have a wonderful day! I know I haven’t published in a while since my life has been busy, but I wanted to at least write something for the holiday season. Also, I tried my best to use British English terms (I know I didn’t use British spelling, though) but I may not have gotten them all since I’m ✨American✨.

*GIF isn't mine; credit to @smilingformoney

For the first time in his life, Severus Snape’s Christmas won’t be one of loneliness. He spent his childhood Christmases with his parents, but being with his parents was like being with no one at all. Every Christmas was the same; his father drank himself into a violent rage and his mother sat on the couch in silence. Severus envied the children who received the newest toys and ate warm meals beside a grand tree. At the very least, Severus wanted to spend time with his family even if there was no tree in the corner of the living room. Wasn’t Christmas time supposed to be full of holiday cheer and merry greetings?

You are the only person who makes him feel happy during the holidays. He stuck his nose up at the Christmas decorations around Hogwarts and not a single tinsel could be found in his quarters. But when the clock struck midnight on the First of December, you required him to add some holiday cheer to his quarters. He placed a mini tree in the living room, hung stockings above his fireplace, and lined the doorframe to his bedroom with garland. The colorful ornaments you gave him for the tree are a little too bright and tacky, but it doesn’t matter; he’d do anything to make you happy.

On the other hand, you decked out your Hogsmeade cottage in the spirit of the holidays. A train chugs around a miniature Christmas village, the large tree displays red globes and floating snowflakes, and a beautiful snow globe with white horses rests on your mantle. The aroma of gingerbread cookies and plum cake wafts from your kitchen as Severus walks into your cottage. You peek into the living room from the kitchen and smile widely as you see him come in.

“Come here!” you say enthusiastically to him, but you run towards him and pull him into the kitchen before he even has a chance to oblige. There are many baked goods on the counter, ranging from gingerbread cookies with iced smiles to a Yule log that actually looks like it was cut from a tree. Without warning, you shove something in Severus’s mouth and he almost spits it out from the surprise.

“How’s the plum cake? I’m in between giving my neighbors a plum cake or a plum pie. They said they like anything with plums, but a pie and a cake aren’t the same thing. So, what do you think I should bake them?” You look at him expectantly as he chews on the plum cake. It is absolutely delicious; it’s moist and not too sweet. Severus swallows the last bite and is about to respond when your eyes widen and you gasp. “Oh wait! I forgot to give you the pie!” Once again, Severus almost chokes as you shove the plum pie into his mouth.

“Now what do you think?” you ask him. Severus stares blankly at you. He doesn’t want to make the wrong choice and therefore disappoint you, especially since you’re looking up at him with expectant eyes. What if he chooses the cake and the neighbors deem it not moist enough? Or what if he tells you to bake the pie and the neighbors don’t like doughy desserts? It’s a minor decision to make, but he never wants to upset you; so, he chooses the sweet he likes more.

“I prefer the cake,” Severus says, pointing at the dessert on the counter. You beam at him and wave your wand to pop another cake into the oven.

“Thanks! Now why don’t you sit down on the couch and I’ll clean the kitchen up?” Before he can oblige, you gently push him out of the kitchen to immerse himself in the Christmas wonderland of your living room.

Severus sits next to the arm of the couch and looks around the room as he patiently waits for you. He notices an open journal on the side table and leans forward to look at the top page. It’s a list of some sort: a snow globe, notepad, pillow, and Iridescent Ink. Every wizard knows what Iridescent Ink is and he thinks the ‘pillow’ is the one he saw you looking at in Hogsmeade. The snow globe on your list likely refers to the one featuring Diagon Alley with reindeer flying overhead. He remembers how you gushed over how cute the reindeer were and how magical Diagon Alley looked… Wait, is this supposed to be your Christmas wishlist?

Severus’s head snaps to the snowman Christmas countdown, which lets him know that there are twelve days until your favorite holiday. Twelve days should be plenty to find all the gifts you want, but he still internally smacks himself for forgetting to buy gifts until now.

He immediately straightens in his seat and rips his gaze from your journal when you enter the room, carrying two mugs of steaming liquid. You wrap your arms around him and Severus blushes crimson. Even though you’ve been dating for almost a year now, Severus reacts the same way whenever you touch him. “I can’t wait to cuddle with you tonight. It’s been extra cold recently.” You rest your head on his shoulder and gaze up at him.

Yes, his thoughts about the pillow were definitely right. The pillow shapes itself around both sides of your body and adjusts when you move. He remembers how you teased him when you said, “I need something to cuddle with when you’re not here to be my body pillow every night.”

“I regret not being here to keep you warm every night, though you know that my responsibilities at Hogwarts are the only factors keeping me away from you.” Severus blushes again at your closeness and looks down. On the weekends, Severus stays overnight at your Hogsmeade cottage. You snuggle so closely and wrap your legs around his so tightly that your bodies are practically fused together. Although he isn’t particularly fond of being confined underneath your body, he does appreciate the warmth that envelopes him. “Even when I am slaving away under Dumbledore’s orders, you can always use a warming spell on nights like these.”

“Mmm, but I prefer it when you keep me warm.” Any thoughts about the hot chocolate awaiting him on the table flee his mind when you cup his face and kiss him on the lips.

After a night of suffocating cuddles, Severus untangles himself from your arms and slips out of the bed. When you stir awake and attempt to pull him back into the bed, Severus whispers an excuse about needing to retrieve essays to grade. You press a wet kiss to his cheek, murmur a farewell, and fall right back to sleep. He’s thankful that your shift at Scrivenshaft’s is later in the day since you won’t catch him apparating to Diagon Alley.

Stores in Diagon Alley have just opened when Severus apparates there. He heads straight for Scribbulus Writing Implements to buy Iridescent Ink for you. Rows and rows of ink line the shelves, making it impossible for him to find Iridescent Ink among colors like Eccentric Emerald and Plum Paradise. After he finds three jars, he heads for Rosa Lee Teabag. Even if you didn’t ask for tea on your wishlist, Severus still buys a box of your favorite tea. Then, a book with moving illustrations displayed in the shop window of Flourish and Blotts catches his eye. His cheeks burn when the cashier asks if it’s for his child, but his momentary embarrassment is worth it since you love books with colorful, detailed illustrations. Perhaps it could be passed on to his future child too.

He remembers seeing your desired snow globe at Ethereal Embellishments Emporium. House-themed snow globes line the top shelf and snow globes with a crackling fireplace lie below. Severus’s brow furrows when he notices that the Diagon Alley snow globe is missing. Try as he might to scavenge through the store and rearrange the shelves, Severus can’t find it.

Even when he asks the store clerk if there are any Diagon Alley snow globes in their inventory, his inquiry remains unsuccessful. She comes back with a box containing a snow globe in the shape of a lantern. A snowman and snowwoman hug each other and wave at the person outside the glass while snow falls around them. Severus frowns as he turns the snow globe in his hand. One reason why you like the Diagon Alley snow globe is because of the cute reindeer flying overhead, and this snow globe has cute snowpeople. Even though it’s nice, it isn’t the one you wanted. After handing it back to the store clerk, her thanks her for her time and leaves the store.

Awkwardly standing in the middle of the street, Severus feels a sense of dread as he considers where else he can find that snow globe. Dazzling Decorations Depot and Hartigan’s Holiday House both sell Christmas decorations. Though when he visits the two shops, he finds out that Hartigan’s has sold out of snow globes and Dazzling Decorations Depot doesn’t even sell snow globes.

His dread turns into panic. He only bought the Iridescent Ink, which can be bought at any stationery shop. The Hogsmeade store that sells the pillow is closed on the weekends. He’s afraid that if he purchases it on Monday, you’ll catch him walking back to Hogwarts with the pillow in hand. He can’t buy the notepad from Scrivenshaft’s either since you work there today and it’s closed on Sunday. The only other day you have off is Tuesday, but it may be sold out by then.

Of course, Severus can gift you items other than what’s on your wishlist. But what if you get angry that he didn’t get you everything on your wishlist? What if you don’t like the gifts he’s chosen for you? Would this ruin your Christmas? Examining the contents of the shopping bags from Rosa Lee Teabag and Flourish and Blotts, Severus can't shake the thought that the items he purchased aren’t good enough for you.

After returning to Hogwarts, Severus drops off what he bought and retrieves the essays he actually does need to grade. He returns to your cottage and sits at your kitchen table, grading the essays. Reading his students’ subpar papers on the properties of Wolfsbane Potion does nothing to distract him from his thoughts, especially as he hears the toot of the train chugging around the Christmas village. You decorated your cottage in the Christmas spirit, make him Holiday Blancmange every weekend, and send sweet notes to his office in Hogwarts Castle. Meanwhile, he hadn’t even thought to start buying gifts until yesterday.

Severus’s eyes brighten as you return home from work, but his gaze holds a bit of sadness as he thinks about what a poor excuse of a boyfriend he is. You laugh as you close the front door and quickly hide something behind your back. “Give me a second!” you say enthusiastically to him and dash into your bedroom. He finishes marking an essay as he hears you rearranging items in your room.

You come back into the kitchen and wrap your arms around him from behind. “How was your day, sweetheart?”

“It can only ever be average when I must read my students’ atrocious papers,” he drawls and rests his hand over yours. “How was work? You are slightly later than usual.”

“It was stressful and the store was packed with people throughout my entire shift. You know, with it being the holiday rush and all.” You lean forward and kiss Severus’s cheek. “But I got something special for you.”

Feelings of guilt eat away at Severus’s heart and his shoulders droop, but he tries to shake it off before you notice. “Oh? Where is it?”

“You won’t get it until Christmas, silly.” You laugh and playfully push him. “By the way, what do you want to do for Christmas? I was thinking that we could just stay in and cook together. Oh! And what do you want to eat? We must have roast beef and I’ll bake any dessert you want.”

Severus thinks you look the most beautiful when you’re excited about something. Your eyes shine, you smile widely, and you shake his shoulders as you go on about whatever makes you passionate. He doesn’t deserve you, especially when you look as beautiful as you do now. He just smiles at you and mumbles, “Whatever you want, I will be happy with.”

After classes end on Tuesday, he walks down to Hogsmeade to buy the pillow and notepad. Lumos Living is swarming with customers when he walks into the store. Unfortunately for Severus, the shape-shifting body pillow is so popular that there are none on the shelves.

Severus’s pointer fingers pick on his cuticles as he approaches a store clerk restocking the shelves in the bedding section. “Do you have any of the shape-shifting body pillows in stock?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t. But we’ll restock on Friday morning, so you can come back and check on that day!” Great, just great. Yet another item on your wishlist that Severus can’t buy. He huffs and thanks the clerk as he stomps out of the store.

Scanning the streets of Hogsmeade, Severus ensures you’re not around as he makes his way to Scrivenshaft’s. Just as you described your shift on Saturday, the store is packed with wizards and witches alike. He hasn’t seen the notepad you want before, but he remembers how you described it to him after you came home from your shift several weeks ago. Every time you pull a sheet out, the next sheet morphs into a completely different shape and design.

The notepad and notebook section isn’t as busy as the rest of the store. There are flying notepads, notebooks that you can have conversations with, and notepads in the shape of a twinkling Christmas tree. Severus thanks Merlin when he finds the notepad you described and snatches it off the shelf before anyone else has a chance to grab it.

Severus walks toward the long checkout line with a slight pep in his step only to freeze as he catches sight of you. Tuesday is your day off; why are you even here? He ducks behind a table displaying a stack of notebooks as you turn to look in his direction. It doesn’t seem like you notice him since you calmly walk over to your coworker at the register.

The two of you have a brief conversation before your coworker hands you something. When you start walking in his direction, Severus dashes from the table to the opposite side of the store. You press something inside the keyhole of a door, which he assumes leads to the stockroom, without spotting your boyfriend.

Severus feigns interest in the limited edition holiday quills as he waits for you to leave. He slowly sorts through the boxes of Festive Featherflame Quills and pretends to look for the best quill. Another customer gives him an impatient look when he takes too long, so he awkwardly steps to the side. He turns around to look at the door to the stockroom, but you still haven’t emerged.

“Sev?” Severus jumps and begins to pick at his cuticles at the sound of your voice. He quickly shoves both the Festive Featherflame Quill and the notepad to the side. His eyes dart to a door beside the quill section, which has just closed shut. Realizing that this door also leads to the stockroom, Severus internally curses himself for not noticing it when he sprinted over here. “What are you doing here?”

“I… well, I am in need of ink and a quill,” Severus attempts to say nonchalantly. When your eyes wander to the shelf behind him, he turns his body to hide the two items from your sight.

“Okay…” you say and frown. “I just wish you bought it during my shift.”

“I apologize, my love, but I did not realize that I needed these two items until this morning,” Severus lies again, but feels a genuine twinge in his heart as you frown. “Further, why are you here today if you are not working?”

“I left my coat here last night.” You still look a little upset, but you peck a kiss on his cheek nonetheless. “I’ve got to run. See you in a few days, okay?”

With a sigh of relief, he watches the front door close behind you. He quickly retrieves the notepad he threw to the side and makes his way to the checkout line, which is even longer than before.

A bell from the second register rings, beckoning the next customer in line. He recognizes the store clerk helping him at the register as Mary, your favorite co-worker and the reason why you two are together. One chilly day in late November, Severus popped into Scrivenshaft’s to buy jars of ink. You caught Severus’s eye as he searched for ink and he could barely string a sentence together when you helped him at the register. Under the guise of buying ink and quills, he visited the store every few days, secretly reveling in the opportunity to admire you and exchange a few words with you. After several weeks, his office stationery drawer overflowed with ink and quills, and Mary noticed how enamored he was with you. During every free moment of your shifts, she teased you about him and eventually convinced you to make the first move.

“Severus, hey!” Mary says enthusiastically and louder than he would’ve wanted. Several other customers and employees glance at Mary and him. “How’ve you been? What are you getting today?”

“I am well. I would like this.” Severus hands over the notepad, causing Mary’s eye to twinkle.

“This one is so cute!” she gushes. Then, something seems to click in her mind and she gasps loudly, of course. “Wait! This is the one that your girlfriend wants!”

Severus looks around to see even more people looking at them, causing him to sigh. Keeping this purchase a secret from you is practically an impossibility at this point. “Mary, please quiet down. I do not want her to know that I am purchasing this for her,” he attempts to say calmly, but a hint of impatience leaks into his voice.

Mary makes a zipping movement over her lips and smiles giddily. “Don’t worry! I promise not to say anything.” She scribbles down the item and price on a record and then looks back up at him. “That’ll be five galleons.”Swiftly handing over the coins, Severus leaves the store with the notepad clutched firmly in his hand.

When his final class before lunch concludes on Friday, Severus shoos his students from his classroom and rushes down to Hogsmeade. He’s nervous that he won’t make it back to Hogwarts on time since the lunch period isn’t long and the village is full of cheery citizens participating in holiday activities. Though what makes him sweat is the possibility that Lumos Living has already sold out of all the shape-shifting pillows they restocked this morning. He can’t afford any more bad luck when it comes to gift-giving.

But unfortunately for Severus, his already minimal good luck has completely drained. There are no more shape-shifting pillows, no matter how many times he ransacks the store and sticks his hands into the crevices between the shelves. He mutters curses under his breath and stomps back to Hogwarts for the final classes of the day, where the students note that he is in an especially foul mood.

His only consolation after all classes end for the day is that the Christmas holidays have just begun, so he can spend two whole weeks at your cottage. His heart soars with excitement as he heads down to Hogsmeade, yet simultaneously sinks with self-disappointment for not buying everything you asked for.

When you arrive home from your shift, you stomp the snow off your boots and joyfully display a bottle of eggnog in your hands. “It was a little expensive, but why not? It’s Christmas and I get to keep you here for two weeks!” you cheerfully say as you hand him the eggnog. Severus waves his wand and pours two glasses as you continue, “I was thinking of going caroling after my shift tomorrow and I know you don’t like it, so I won’t drag you along. But I’ll make up for my lateness tomorrow night with smoked salmon for tonight’s dinner, okay?”

“That sounds delightful, my love,” Severus says quietly and sips his eggnog. Turning over the bottle in his hand, he sighs at your sweet gesture, which he feels he is unworthy of.

As you wave your wand to summon all the ingredients for tonight’s dinner, you turn to Severus and frown at him. “Is everything all right, sweetheart?” you ask, concern clear in your voice.

Severus looks into your eyes and sees genuine worry. He can’t bear the thought of ruining your day, so he forces a small smile and pulls you close to him. “Do not worry. I am fine. My head is merely spinning at the thought of the potions I have to brew for my stores over the Christmas holidays. At least those pesky students will not give me headaches for the next two weeks.”

You smile back at him and nuzzle your nose against his. “And I’ll start making dinner so you can get your head off things. But I still expect you to make one of your special drink concoctions.”

As the evening progresses and you eat a delicious dinner, he enjoys spending time with you and listening to you rave about what your friends plan to do for Christmas. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake up the feelings of guilt building inside him.

As you head off for work and caroling the next day, he takes advantage of the time alone to do some final holiday shopping. The store clerks at Lumos Living inform him that the shape-shifting pillow won’t be stocked until after Christmas, so Severus resorts to buying a body pillow that changes temperature based on your body temperature. Pillow stuffed in a bag, he apparates to Diagon Alley to find the elusive snow globe. Neither can the Diagon Alley snow globe be found in any of the shops. After carefully inspecting all the other substitutes from Ethereal Embellishments and Hartigan’s, he decides to buy the snow globe with a snowman and snowwoman hugging each other. At least you might appreciate the cheery, adorable faces of the snowpeople.

As Severus wanders aimlessly around Diagon Alley with his store bags in hand, he ponders over whether to get you something from the surrounding stores. His memory flashes back to the first gift he gave you: a red glimmering potion that released tiny floating animals. Nothing has ever made him nearly as happy as when you threw your arms around him and gushed over it for weeks. Instead of buying other items at Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, he resolves to brew something similar to that potion. At least he knows you’ll like it.

Upon his return to Hogwarts, Severus immediately sets up a large cauldron and assembles the required ingredients. Since it’s not an overly complicated potion, he adds extra details to make the gift even more special. Stirring the boiling water and dropping ingredients in as they’re required, he makes the potion sparkle green, gold, and red. After he waves his wand over photographs of you and him, the cauldron releases floating, moving images of the two of you. He smiles as two tiny figures float in the air: you and him standing in front of a zoo enclosure of mooncalves.

He pours the finished potion into a large bottle and mulls over what else he should make using his potion skills. It may be too late to hang new ornaments on the tree, but Severus still decides to make liquid-filled ornaments for the following year. He prepares a potion similar to the one he made earlier, which also glimmers in the cauldron. Then, he transfigures clean potion bottles into the shapes of icicles and eggs and adds tiny, colorful glass pieces to design the eggs. Severus frowns as he inspects his uneven placement of the glass pieces on the eggs, but he hopes the ornaments still look enchanting enough as the potion swirls inside the glass.

Over the next several days, you occupy almost every minute of Severus’s time. As a child, he never built snowmen or lay on the ground and made snow angels. Neither had he been brave enough to challenge the other children to a snowball fight or ride a sled down the small hill near his home. But when you two aren’t relaxing at your cottage or walking hand-in-hand at a Christmas event, you pull him outside and have fun in the snow. A snowman and snowwoman fashioned after the two of you still stand outside your front door, and Severus adjusts their twig arms so they continue to hold hands despite the harsh wind. No matter how many times you ride a sled together, his arms wrapped around your front remain stiff; yet when the two of you roll off the sled after crashing into something, he can’t help but crack a smile. And every evening that the two of you spend together, you walk through an enchanted Christmas wonderland the village of Hogsmeade has set up. Throughout all these festivities, Severus almost forgets how he’s failed in getting all the gifts you want. Almost.

In the middle of the night between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, Severus rushes to retrieve the gifts from Hogwarts and properly package them. With only a candle lighting up the room, Severus hunches over the kitchen table and waves his wand over the wrapping paper. The process of wrapping the Iridescent Ink, notepad, and potion gifts go smoothly. However, he pauses as his eyes roam over the snowpeople globe, temperature-changing pillow, box of tea, and illustrated book. Would it be better to not give you the second-best gifts or not give you a pillow or snow globe at all? Perhaps you would think he didn’t bother to find you everything on your list, so Severus reluctantly wraps up those two things. Along that same train of thought, he covers the box of tea and illustrated book with silver wrapping paper. Before he can overthink the gifts he’s wrapped, he waves his wand and sends them to rest at the foot of the tree.

At precisely eight the next morning, Severus is shaken awake by you. He slowly opens his eyes and sees your eager face and messy morning hair right above him. “Wake up, Sev! Happy Christmas!” you squeal. You kiss him on the lips and scurry out of the room.

Severus yawns and slogs out of bed. When he enters the living room, you run into his arms and kiss him. “When did you put all those gifts under the tree?” you ask excitedly.

“When you were sleeping last night,” Severus says groggily and pulls you close to him. It’s an irrational thought, but he thinks that you might not open up his gifts if he holds you here all day.

You wrap your arms around his neck and gaze adoringly up at him. “You know you’re the best boyfriend, right?”

He feels a twinge in his heart, but he forces a smile onto his face. “Do not flatter me, my love.” You laugh at him and gently push him away before he can hold you closer and prevent you from sitting under the tree.

Severus holds his breath as you sort through the gifts, but then you pull out a package that he doesn’t recognize. You pat the floor next to you and hold the package above your head. “I want you to open all my gifts first.”

He takes the package from you and tenderly runs a hand over the green bow and red wrapping paper adorned with flying hippogriffs. Reluctant to rip away or lazily flick his wand over the wrapping you obviously put effort into, he slowly unties the bow and gently removes the wrapping paper. Inside is a packaged set of books on the Dark Arts, specifically rare volumes that he had expressed interest in several weeks ago. How did you even find these? How did you even remember that he wanted these? Severus looks up and notices the hopeful look in your eyes. He genuinely smiles at you and leans forward to kiss your cheek. “Thank you, my love. You are so very thoughtful.”

“Of course, Sev!” You turn to look for another gift and hand him a package even bigger than the last one. Again, you eagerly watch him as he carefully unwraps the gift. His mouth drops in awe as he uncovers the exquisitely crafted wooden box that serves as a travel potions case. The outside of the box is carved in the design of a tree and when he opens it, his name is engraved on the top section. Jars of potion ingredients are also stored inside the box, ranging from bat spleens to boomslang. You smile shyly at him and say, “I wasn’t very good at Potions, so I don’t know if those ingredients will be useful to you. But I did find a list of ingredients you’re running short of, so I bought those.”

Severus sets the box aside and embraces you. “No, no. This is the most beautiful trunk I have ever set my eyes upon and I am in need of all of those ingredients. You should not have done all of this for me,” he says quietly and his voice even breaks. His heart pounds wildly and his mind swarms with thoughts of how he doesn’t deserve this, how he doesn’t deserve you. You gave him this and the best thing he’s giving you is a silly lovey-dovey potion. Some tears form in his eyes and he quickly blinks them away before you notice them.

“Nope, I would get anything for you, Sev. I’m just afraid that the other gifts aren’t as nice as the last two,” you say as you rub his back. You pull away and summon a small present into your hand. “I know you like practical gifts, so I hope you like this one.”

Underneath the blue bow and icicle-themed wrapping paper, the clear box contains several red rubbers. You laugh as you spot the unintentional look of confusion on Severus’s face. “They’re Flubber Rubbers. I know you can’t usually remove the ink from your students’ essays, but these rubbers actually do remove ink and write encouraging comments in the margins. I thought these would help you stay more positive after Minerva scolded you for being too harsh.”

His cheeks burn and he glares at you, sending you into an even louder laughing fit. “I do not know if I should feel insulted or be grateful, though I suppose I can use these on essays that fall short of atrocious.” Internally, Severus is secretly very grateful that you would try to help him with his work as a professor. He takes in a deep breath and blinks, yet again fighting the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes. How did he ever manage to make you, an angel, his girlfriend?

Your hands grasp onto a large box with a red and green bow on the top, but then you pull your hand back and pass him another present. “I also got this one from Scrivenshaft’s. I hope you don’t already have this one,” you say a little nervously.

Severus cocks his brow as he unwraps the gift, pondering over what you meant by “I hope you don’t already have this one.” Almost every stationery item he owns is from Scrivenshaft’s since he wants to support the shop you work at, but he doesn’t buy unique stationery items. He mostly purchases black and red ink, basic quills, and journals. Perhaps this is a leatherbound journal?

Severus lifts the lid of the box. Inside is what he assumes is a limited edition Christmas quill. He doesn’t recognize the bird from which the feather was plucked, but the feather has been dyed a deep red and flutters to increase and decrease in size. It’s nice, but he wouldn’t choose Christmas quills over basic ones. Why did you get this? Then, it clicks in his mind. Last week, you spotted him in the limited edition holiday quill section at Scrivenshaft’s. You must have thought that he wanted one of those quills, especially the Festive Featherflame.

His lip trembles and he frowns deeply as he holds the quill in the palm of his hand. You notice everything about him, from the wanting looks at potion ingredients to how he lingers around a particular corner of the Dark Arts section of bookshops for too long. Severus now thinks that he isn’t nearly as observant as you are. What if you clearly wanted something, but he didn’t buy it for you because you didn’t verbally express interest in it? How many items has he now missed out on buying? Out of all the things you’ve given him so far, the item he didn’t necessarily want finally forces the tears out of his eyes. Severus’s shoulders shake and he pinches the quill a little too forcefully in his hands. What an utter failure of a boyfriend he’s been.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like it?” you ask quietly, but the concern is loud in your voice. You scoot closer to him and wipe the tears flowing down his cheeks.

“No, it is not that. You notice everything about me and all of these gifts have been incredibly thoughtful,” he sobs. “Meanwhile, I could not even find you all the gifts on your wishlist.” Severus accepts your loving embrace and buries his face in your shoulder even though he knows he doesn’t deserve this.

You pull back and furrow your brow in confusion as you ask, “Wait, what? How do you know I made a wishlist?”

“I found it inside your journal around twelve days ago, I believe,” Severus says shyly and his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I apologize if I invaded your privacy by looking at your journal. Though I swear that it was already open when I looked at its contents.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I was just wondering how you knew since I didn’t tell anyone.” You push a strand of hair behind his ear and kiss his cheek. As more tears pour down his face, you summon a handkerchief from a cabinet and hand it to him. “You really didn’t have to get me any of those things, Sev. I planned on buying all of them when they went on sale tomorrow.”

“But then what would I have given you for Christmas? You have given me so much and I bought gifts that are unworthy of you.” Although your loving touch has slightly calmed him down, his body still shakes and his voice breaks as he speaks.

“Really, you didn’t have to give me any presents. This is corny to say, but having you here for Christmas is all that I wanted. I didn’t ask you for your wishlist nor did I give you my own since I think it’s better to give your loved ones thoughtful gifts rather than ones they’ve been begging for for months.” You pull away from him and sweep your hand over the gifts under the tree. “I was going to have you open all my presents first, but why don’t you let me open the ones you got for me?”

Severus shakes his head and looks down. “I do not want to disappoint you. I know Christmas is your favorite holiday, so I do not want to ruin your day.”

You sigh and cup his face again. “You could never disappoint me or ruin my Christmas, Sev. The fact that you’re even crying about this shows how much you care about me. You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and there is nothing that you can say that will convince me otherwise.”

Severus grunts a “fine” under his breath, but he glows internally at what you’ve said. He decides to hand you the present with the notepad first since he doesn’t want to get your hopes up with the potions present or disappoint you with the second-best gifts.

As you carefully remove the wrapping paper like he had, Severus can tell you’re holding yourself back from ripping at it. When you uncover the notepad, your face lights up and you throw your arms around him. “This is why you were at Scrivenshaft’s without me! You’re so sneaky!”

“You nearly caught me multiple times. Then, I nearly had a heart attack when you said hello to me.” He laughs at the memory and runs his hand over your hair.

“Yeah, you looked pretty nervous.” You join him in his laughter and place the notepad on a nearby table. “What’s next?”

“This.” He points out the small box in golden wrapping paper. He realizes that his wrapping, even when he used a spell to do it, isn’t nearly as good as yours. “It is not special, but it was on your list.”

“If it’s from you, then it is special,” you say with a smile. Normally, he would roll his eyes when Dumbledore makes a statement like that. Yet you say things like that, he rolls his eyes and smiles.

You quickly remove the wrapping paper from the Iridescent Ink and you embrace him again. “Thank you, Sev! I’ll use this to write notes when I’m at home. It’s too special to use at work.”

His hands shake as he hands you the pillow and the snow globe at the same time. Although you promised that this wouldn’t ruin your Christmas or that you wouldn’t be upset at him, Severus’s mind always goes to the worst. You reach for the snow globe first and squeeze the wrapping and padding before opening it.

“Ooh, what’s this? It’s probably something fragile by the feel of it,” you comment. When you spot the cute snowman and snowmen waving at you, you squeal. “They’re so cute! That’s us! And they remind me of the snowman and snowmen outside too!” You run up and place your new gift on the table with your snow globe collection. “You know what? This is even better than the Diagon Alley snow globe.” And that makes a genuine, wide grin break out on Severus’s face for the first time that day.

“I am glad. I hope you like the next one as much.” Once it’s free of its covering, you squeeze the temperature-changing pillow and sigh at how it adjusts to your body temperature.

“I’m going to find a way to make this one Severus-temperature on the nights you’re away. But for now, I’m going to put this in the closet so it doesn’t get dirty.”

After you get back, you open the tea box and the illustrated book. You promise to make two cups of that tea right after opening all the gifts, and your eyes light up at the moving illustrations. He tells you about the store clerk assuming that it was for his child, and you bury your face in your hands and laugh.

“I saved the best two for last,” he says quietly and first gives you the potion ornaments. “I made everything myself.”

You unwrap the potion ornaments and your mouth drops in awe. The liquid swirls inside the glass and casts a mesmerizing glow onto the walls and the floor. You immediately wave your wand and hang each icicle and egg ornament on the tree, then tap them to change the color of the potion inside to match the colors on the tree. Severus anxiously watches to see how else you’ll react, but then feels a surge of relief when you turn to him, tears in your eyes. You embrace him for the millionth time that day and kiss him so passionately that he can hardly breathe. “This has to be the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Either this one or the animal potion you gave me several months ago,” you say breathlessly.

Severus cries again and presses his forehead against yours. “That means you will adore the last present I have for you.” You pick up the box right beside you and tenderly open it. You sniff and continue to cry as you uncover the large bottle. Cradling it in your hands, you uncork the cap and are mesmerized by the tiny images of the two of you floating into the air: clinking your drinks at the Three Broomsticks, standing outside a glowing Diagon Alley shop, and wrapping your arms around him as he sits in his Hogwarts office. Your lip trembles and you sob even louder as you stare at the sentimental gift. With steady hands, you carefully place the bottle on the side table and hug him again.

“I keep hugging you, but you deserve something even better tonight,” you whisper suggestively into his ear and laugh gently. Severus blushes and twiddles with his thumbs, trying to ignore the heat rising in other parts of his body.

Every other present Severus opens jerks even more tears from his eyes: a scrapbook with photos of you and him, a vintage book on spells, and a candle set with subtle Christmas scents.

After you both put your presents away, you brew the tea as promised and prepare a light meal. For the rest of the day, Severus helps you cook roast beef, roast potatoes, parsnips, rolls, smoked salmon, Holiday Blancmange, plum pudding, and chocolate cake. He continually fears that he’ll burn something or start a fire, but everything tastes delicious once you two finally sit down and eat. During the evening, you relax by the fireplace and the Christmas tree, sipping hot chocolate and talking for hours. When you two go to bed, well, Severus receives his last present of the day. Although the day isn’t full of sled riding down steep hills and he never expected to burst into tears as you exchanged gifts, Severus deems this the first perfect Christmas he’s had in his life.

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emsprovisions · 20 days ago

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❄️ Day 7 - The Christmas Village ❄️

🎁 Today's fic is dedicated to @carlos-in-glasses!

Summary: TK finds a box containing Gwyn's beloved Christmas village.

Word count: 720

Prompt inspired by "decorating for the season" found here

24 Days of Tarlos Masterpost

“Here you go, babe, this is the last of the holiday stuff in storage,” Carlos says, depositing a storage bin in the entryway. When TK doesn’t respond, Carlos moves closer. “Babe?”

TK is sitting cross-legged in front of a cardboard box marked “Christmas Village.” He looks up at Carlos with shiny eyes and holds up a small general store, perfectly old-timey and frosted with glittering snow.

“I haven’t seen this stuff in years. It’s all mom’s,” TK explains.

Carlos softens, immediately moving to sit down beside his fiancé. He peers into the box and sees a bunch of paper-wrapped bundles. He pulls one near the top out and unwraps a library.

“These are so beautiful,” Carlos says, voice soft.

TK nods, sniffling as a tear runs down his cheek. He leans against Carlos as he unwraps a few more.

“She was obsessed with Christmas villages. She’d make it bigger every year, adding more buildings or more trees. There’s an ice rink somewhere and a bunch of tiny villagers. It always took up the entire coffee table,” TK smiles softly in fond remembrance through his tears.

Carlos wraps an arm around TK, holding him safe and close. He runs his hand along the length of TK’s spine, sending him comfort.

“Would you like to set it up on the entry table, baby?” He asks gently.

TK lifts his head from Carlos’s shoulder to look at him. “You’d let me?”

“Of course I would let you,” Carlos smiles. “This is our home, babe. We’re going to get married. What’s important to you has always been important to me.”

TK gives Carlos a watery smile, and Carlos can’t help but think the man he plans on marrying is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen–even grief-stricken, even with puffy, red eyes from crying, even when he misses his mom. Carlos leans forward to kiss TK’s cheek.

“Let’s unpack the rest and clear off the table and see how we want to arrange them,” Carlos suggests.

“They might not all fit,” TK says.

“We’ll do our best. We can keep some put away or find another spot for more,” Carlos shrugs.

The rest of the evening is dedicated to Gwyn. They decide to order dim sum from the place she liked in Austin. TK tells Carlos stories and memories for some of the pieces of the Christmas village that he can remember as they set as much of it as they can on the entry table. TK decides he wants a smaller version of the village on display, with the more prominent pieces he remembers from his childhood. He keeps the newer pieces that Gwyn added after he moved out packed up in the box.

“Maybe we can add onto it year after year, too,” he laughs. “It’ll be just like mom.”

They set her menorah up alongside the beautiful one Carlos got for TK in the window.

He smiles as he glances around their partially decorated loft. The tree is up, but they haven’t gotten to ornaments yet. All TK can see are his mom’s touches. When he begins to cry again, Carlos holds him close and guides him to the couch, where TK crawls into his lap and cries into his shoulder.

“I just miss her so much,” TK says from the safety of Carlos’s arms. “I wish I could take you to New York for the holidays. I want you to see this village in her Manhattan high rise, and the menorah in her window, and takeout from the place on Spring Street. It feels right when it’s there.”

Carlos presses gentle kisses into TK’s hair. “She’s here with us now, baby. You get to have a piece of your mom forever.”

TK nods, “I know. I just still wish you could’ve seen it the right way before you had to see it in our home.”

“I see it, baby. I see it through you.” When TK pulls back, sniffly, and brokenhearted, and absolutely stunning, Carlos sees Gwyn Morgan’s kind and tender heart reflected in her son. He sees a love for Christmas villages that Gwyn rooted within TK. Most importantly, he sees love–so much, he doesn’t even know what to do with it all. And being given the privilege to love Tyler Kennedy Strand is Gwyn’s best gift of all.

#24 days of tarlos #tarlos #911 lone star #em writes #hurt comfort #sorry if this one makes y'all cry #I cried writing it

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inawickedlittletown · 3 days ago

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All I Want For Christmas Is You (BuckTommy) - 6/8

Summary: When Buck and Tommy pick each other for the 118's Secret Santa, they both realize they know nothing about each other. That changes very quickly. Words: 3.1k Rating: M Read on Ao3 Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

Chapter Six

The next week was different. Buck wasn’t sure if anyone even noticed, because Tommy had just reverted back to just kind of ignoring Buck unless it was work related. They were never alone despite Buck trying to catch him on his own. When Buck had tried sending him a text it sat unread for days and then when Tommy did respond it was just to decline Buck asking if he’d want to go see a movie together.

Buck knew when he wasn’t wanted. He knew when it was better to just cut his losses and move on. It happened to him often enough. There was just something about him that made people think they could do better, or that he just wasn’t worth all the trouble after a romp in the sheets. Tommy had come to that conclusion and Buck couldn’t fault him. So, he stayed away. There were more fishes in the sea and all that.

At the very least, the time they’d spent together had given Buck a few options when it came to Secret Santa. Although, a part of him — a petty part — wanted to just go out of his way to make the present as mundane and useless as anything.

He couldn’t quite convince himself to go that route. But, it wasn’t like Buck knew what he would get him. The one thing he was certain of was that once Christmas had come and gone that would be the end of it and he would stop letting his mind drift to thinking about Tommy yet again. Buck would go out and find someone else and just move on. It was what he did and it was what he was good at.

When the week was over, Buck gave in to the impulse to just go out to a bar and see if he could do something to get Tommy out of his mind. He was barely there a few minutes before he left and wound up at the mall instead.

Buck had a little over a week left and at least being as alone as he was did mean that Buck really only had to worry about getting something for Tommy. The worst of it was walking into a store and pinpointing things that would have worked perfectly to give to Chim or Hen or Bobby. Not so much for Tommy.

Eventually, Buck wound up just going into a cafe to pick up some coffee and a snack. It reminded him of Tommy’s excitement for the cookies the other day. He had a feeling he was going to wind up just getting one of those chocolate gift sets as impersonal as it felt. At least Tommy would like that for sure which was something.

When he pushed the door to the cafe open on his way out, he almost ran right into Karen.

“Oh. Karen, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “Fancy seeing you out and about.”

“Secret Santa,” Buck said. “I still haven’t even figured out what to get so I’ve been browsing the mall.”

Karen chuckled. “That’s right. Hen already has hers ready to go. Actually, I’m pretty sure she finished all her shopping. Clearly, I’m not done. I was thinking of going into the bookstore to see if I could find something for Hen. Want to join me?”

“Yeah. Sure. Maybe something will pop out for me there,” Buck said.

He ate the muffin he’d picked up at the cafe on the way, but was still holding his coffee when they arrived at the bookstore.

The whole place had been decorated for the holidays. The window had a display with a small ceramic village complete with a tree and a train that went around the whole thing on a track. Lights and garland covered the shelves and on the door was a wreath made out of tiny felt books.

At first he and Karen perused together. The store was not just books. They had a stationary area and a shelf full of travel mugs with quotes that probably came from books and next to that a rack that held tote bags.

The shelves were arranged with signs and Buck wound up heading in the direction of the nonfiction. His first thought was to see if there was anything on art. Or, flying. He pulled out his phone to look at the picture he’d taken of Tommy’s bookshelf. No books on art, but a lot about flying. On closer inspection it looked like they were flight manuals rather than books on planes or helicopters.

The bookstore did have a few books on different famous artists. DaVinci. Van Gogh. Picasso. Monet. Khalo. Buck couldn’t have been able to say much about any of them and he didn’t think that Tommy would actually have any use for biographies. So, Buck wandered the shelves. A LGBTQ+ section caught his eye.

Buck had always considered himself an ally. He’d gone to LA Pride the year before. He never had a problem with anyone that identified differently be it their gender or sexual preferences, he just had never looked at himself and thought he could be more than the default.

On the LGBTQ+ shelf there were plenty of novels, but some non-fiction as well. Self-help and essays and history.

“Hey,” Karen said suddenly at his elbow. “Find anything?”

“Oh. No. I don’t think a book is the right way to go.”

“But these caught your eye?” Karen asked. “Wait, did you get Hen as your Secret Santa? No, don’t tell me. I can’t know.”

“I don’t have Hen,” Buck said. “I just—”

Buck had told Connor. Tommy knew, obviously. He hadn’t told anyone else. Karen though...she seemed like a safe bet to tell and yeah it might make it back to Hen, but Buck didn’t even really care about that. It might mean he didn’t have to say anything to Hen outright.

“I’m bi, Karen,” Buck said. “It’s…um, it’s new.”

Karen’s smile didn’t falter. “Wow. Thank you for telling me.”

Buck took a breath. “I kissed a guy and it was like…like I realized I hadn’t been whole my entire life until then. I’ve always been an ally and now it’s…I guess I’m more. I’m bi.”

“You certainly are, Buck,” Karen said. “Does that mean you’re seeing someone, then?”

Tommy flashed in his mind. After that date and the glorious afternoon spent in Tommy’s bed they hadn’t spoken outside of work and Buck knew it was over before anything had even begun. Buck felt dumb for thinking that it could be more and that Tommy might give them a chance. He should have known better.

“No,” Buck said and then grabbed a book at random.

The cover was pink and it was apparently a romance novel. He put it back. He could feel Karen watching him.

“I kissed a guy and we had sex a few times and I never told him that he was the first guy I was with and he basically ghosted me after that,” Buck said.

It was mostly the truth.

“Oh, you jumped right on in, then. Hen’s told me stories, but most people don’t do things at your pace.”

Buck hummed. “I guess not. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s over and I don’t think I’ll find anything in here for him.”

Karen made a noise, but she started coughing.

“I’ll pay for these,” she said.

Karen paid for the four books she’d picked up and Buck waited for her.

“Hey, Buck, this does get easier and less confusing.”

“I hope so.”

He’d sketched Evan into the better half of a sketchbook. His hands. His face. A very rough one of his body while Tommy had been riding him. Other things too, Evan’s smile. His birthmark. Abstract things that were a reminder of Evan. He was clearly well rooted in Tommy in a way that would be hard to shake. Shake him, he would.

The days following their date had been a little awkward. Tommy had even seen Chim and Hen sharing glances because Tommy had gone from talking to Evan a bit more and including him more to ignoring him again.

“Did Buck do something to you?” Hen had asked one afternoon between calls.

“No. He’s still the same impulsive kid.”

“He’s definitely grown a bit,” Hen said.

Tommy was glad when they had a call to get to. He wound up sitting next to Evan and was stiff the whole ride there. When they arrived on the scene Bobby paired them together he didn’t even blink. Evan had caught on by that point, at least, that Tommy wouldn’t talk to him. So, he didn’t try though his baleful glances struck Tommy to the heart.

He and Evan went up the ladder that was extended out to the roof of the house, neither said a word and it felt like a blanket of tension had been laid atop them both. The man they were helping had injured his leg while putting lights on his roof. Even he seemed to sense the tension in the air as they helped to get him on a backboard to transport him down.

Maybe it was unfair to freeze Evan out, but Tommy didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t get attached to Evan. He couldn’t be what Evan needed and there were already too many complications that would arise most because they worked side by side. It was better this way. He did hate the kicked puppy look that Evan got when Tommy pointedly ignored him, but Evan would get over it. Evan would go out and find himself some younger guy to get his rocks off with. That or some girl. Maybe a whole plethora of them if that was what he wanted. Tommy would always be the guy that helped him realize that he wasn’t straight, but that was about it.

One day, they might even laugh and talk about it. Not any time soon though.

Tommy did still call the guy with the wood carvings and asked about seeing his pieces again. Apparently the Christmas Market was still going, so Tommy drove over on his next day off.

“Hey, I’m Tommy. We spoke on the phone.”

“Right. Right. You were interested in something for a friend?”

Tommy nodded and took a look around. A lot of the bigger pieces were way past the $50 limit but he did find a carving of a dog with a firefighter’s helmet. It was perfect.

“This one,” Tommy said.

It wouldn’t be enough, but Tommy had the start of a plan for the rest of Evan’s present. It might even serve as a way to break the ice between them again and put them on a path to being friends. He hoped. Otherwise, it might be awkward at work forever.

“Thank you,” Tommy said when he was handed the wrapped package.

“No problem. Hope your friend likes it.”

He took a quick walk around the rest of the market, found himself buying cookies and this time a hot chocolate at that booth and then he found a tent that he and Evan hadn’t gotten to the last time or that hadn’t been there at all. A rainbow flag stuck out and Tommy found himself smiling a little.

At one point in his life, he’d abhorred rainbows and everything they represented for him. He’d never wanted to be attached to it, to claim it for his own. Had believed for the longest time that he didn’t deserve the community it provided. Hell, Tommy had never even gone to a pride parade. It happened sometime when he started painting again, where a rainbow had snuck into a painting and then he was adding them where they worked, especially in a painting that was devoid of other color. It felt like finally allowing himself to be more open about himself, a way to accept that he was gay and nothing and no one could change that.

He approached the tent and found a smiling man behind a small table that served as a counter. There was a display of different colored flags that Tommy couldn’t begin to assign, books on a small bookshelf and novelty t-shirts and tote bags and mugs.

“Hello,” the man on the other side of the table said. “Looking for anything specific?”

“Huh, not really. I’m buying for a Secret Santa. The guy I got just recently realized he’s bi.”

“Oh,” the man said. “Well we don’t have a welcome to being queer pack or anything, but you could give him one of our mugs or a book on queer history. There’s some informative ones, some funny ones. But, you know, just because he’s bi doesn’t mean his gift has to be about that.”

Tommy could tell that there was a level of condescension in the tone and Tommy got it. He got what he looked like and how he passed for straight easily, that he’d leaned on that for a while, maybe so much that he never could be perceived otherwise.

He picked up one of the mugs. It was cute and a quote he’d seen in a few places, “Harold, they’re lesbians”. Tommy chuckled and put it down again. A few just had a big rainbow going around them, some with gay or lesbian or bi or queer or trans written on them. Then, he saw one with each line in pink, purple, and blue: “Both. Both Is. Good”. On the other side it said: “Chaotic Bisexual”

“This is perfect for him,” Tommy said with a smile.

Then, he spotted one with a cartoonish rainbow and “Yup, woke up GAY again”.

“I’ll take this too,” Tommy said.

The guy raised an eyebrow.

“For myself,” Tommy said.

He saw the man behind the counter nod, lips pressed tight. He was the type of guy that fit the stereotype. Someone that could never have hid his sexuality unless he was really trying and maybe he never had found himself in an environment where hiding was the best option. Some people were that lucky.

He went to the books next. Several of the titles caught his eye including the flashy looking The LGBTQ+ History that told him Evan would have a kick reading. Then, he saw Bi The Way. He wound up picking both. Over the time he’d known Evan, he knew that Evan liked to deep dive into research about pretty random topics. He mostly did that online. The likelihood was that he’d already gone through every possible site on the internet, but these books would be quirky and fun.

“These too,” Tommy said.

The man nodded. The mugs he’d put in individual boxes. He added everything into a small bag, but didn’t hand it over.

“What?” Tommy asked.

“I’m sorry. I just…I assumed you were just—”

“Just some cis straight guy,” Tommy said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I forget sometimes that the queer experience looks different for everyone. I hope your friend who just came out is glad he has you to help him along the way.”

Except that Evan hadn’t actually needed that much help from him when it came to the discovery of his sexuality. He hadn’t asked Tommy a single question about being queer or about Tommy’s own history. It was a little unusual, that was for sure.

He bought a gift bag at another tent and then when he got back home put every component of Evan’s gift inside. He left it right by his tree and he was almost sad to be done with it. His own mug he took into the kitchen. He placed it inside his cabinet and it looked out of place, but Tommy loved it. Maybe one day he would have another mug in there that belonged to someone that fit into Tommy’s life. He didn’t think it would happen, but it was possible. Maybe.

He tried hard not to picture the mug he’d gotten Evan. That was definitely not going to happen.

“Looks like someone was up all night,” Chim said.

Buck didn’t even realize Chim was talking to him, but of course he was. And Buck had been up all night. He’d gone down a research spiral. It had started with him looking a little bit further into bisexuality and what it meant for him, but he’d started thinking about Tommy and then that had led straight into Buck just researching art supplies.

Apparently there was a lot to learn. Not all paints and colored pencils were created equal. That went for brushes and pigments and clay and so many other things. Buck had seen Tommy’s art room twice and he’d noticed that Tommy had a lot of acrylic paint, brushes, and a cup that held pencils. Considering his sketches were all done in pencil, he didn’t think it’d be a bad idea to get him a set of good colored pencils. And so, Buck had gone on a research spiral, but he’d also managed to order some colored pencils and a few different sketchbooks.

It didn’t seem like enough, but Buck figured with Christmas drawing closer it was better to have something ready to go than not.

“You do have bags under your eyes, Buck,” Hen said. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Some,” Buck said. “I’ll get a nap later.”

Chim nudged his shoulder. “How hot was she to keep you up all night?”

Buck felt his cheeks go warm. “There was no girl.”

“Sure,” Chim said.

“There wasn’t,” Buck said again.

Tommy walked into the locker room. “What’s happening?” He asked and didn’t look in Buck’s direction.

Buck felt the avoidance down to his bones. The worst of it was that Buck had never gotten stuck on someone the way he’d gotten stuck on Tommy and they hadn’t even gone on more than a single date. For a second Buck had thought maybe it was that it was a guy and new, but he knew deep down that it was Tommy.

“Buck is being surprisingly mum about what he got up to last night,” Chim said.

“Oh,” Tommy said.

“Nothing. I got up to nothing but shopping for my Secret Santa,” Buck said and he turned so he could look directly at Tommy. “That and a bit of research. That’s all.”

Tommy turned away. “We all know we would know all the details if Buck did hook up with anyone, wouldn’t we.”

“I did hook up with someone last week. Really hot,” Buck offered.

“Yeah, I don’t want to hear about that,” Hen said.

Buck caught Tommy’s eye and he saw Tommy roll his eyes. Buck turned away and finished getting dressed. He didn’t say anything to any of them as he left the locker room and made his way up the stairs hoping that he could actually get a nap on the couch before a call came in.

#bucktommy #tevan #kinley #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 abc #bucktommy fic #christmas fic

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

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can you write something ruhn×reader? Maybe they go to ice skating and they're so cute, and after going home watching Christmas movies and being so cute together

Christmas in the City

Ruhn x reader

A/n: I’m sorry this is so short but it’s just a lil hc. That’s all for the Christmas Eve Eve celebration!

Warnings: none

Ruhn decided a stay-cation would be fun for Christmas

He books you guys a room in the fanciest hotel in Lunathion

When you check in you walk around the lobby looking at the lights and decor

There’s even a life size gingerbread house with a little gingerbread village next to it

The hotel even put a mini fake tree in your room that’s decorated. It had presents underneath it that you asked Ruhn about. All he said was, “Hhmm how did those get there? Guess you’ll have to wait and see if they’re real.”

When he had went to the gym the next morning you called Flynn asking him to bring Ruhn’s presents (you assumed you would do presents the day after oops)

You checked in on solstice eve eve so you changed and headed to dinner in the hotel restaurant

Ruhn pulled out all the stops for dinner. A 3 course meal, expensive champagne, and an extravagant dessert

After dinner you went for a walk around the expensive shopping district looking at the window displays and lights

On solstice eve Ruhn took you ice skating in the rink where the big tree is

After you get hot chocolate and lunch from the food trucks and take a stroll through the holiday village and make so small splurge purchases

Getting back to the room you change into your matching PJs (you convinced him to at least wear the pants bc that male never wears a shirt to bed he says it’s too constricting)

You throw on the movie channel that’s having a solstice movie marathon

You cuddle all night whispering sweet nothings to each other

Solstice morning you excitedly jump out of bed grabbing the presents and bringing them back to bed

You and Ruhn take turns opening gifts

Once gifts are done Ruhn orders room service for breakfast

You spend the day lounging around the hotel room and walking around

The hotel even had a hot chocolate bar and solstice cookies in the lobby

#crescent city imagine #crescent city #crescent city headcanon #crescent city fanfic #crescent city x reader #crescent city fluff #crescent city fanfiction #ruhn crescent city #ruhn danaan x you #ruhn headcanon #ruhn fluff #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn x reader #ruhn x you #prince ruhn #ruhn danaan #prince ruhn danaan

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niennanir · 9 days ago

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The Great Bunny Debacle of 24

It was a brisk, sunny morning a week before Christmas in Florida, this morning to be precise. And by 'brisk' I mean: the mid 60's at 8am. It's Florida, I'm not sure what you expect. A nice sea breeze was coming in off The Gulf, touching the air with salt as I opened my lanai door to let the dogs out before breakfast.

Kaname (13), Eirien (12), and Merilin (9), are all, by breed, hunting dogs. I'll pause here to say that no bunnies were harmed in the making of this story. If they had been, I wouldn't have bothered telling it because there wouldn't be anything to tell. Despite the fact I don't hunt, my dogs are very accomplished hunters themselves. No one more than Kaname. Eirien and Merilin are Norwegian Elkhounds, bred for hunting exactly what you'd expect; very large deer. If you took the average timber wolf, made it one third the size and gave it a stupidly cheerful and optimistic disposition, congratulations, you've just created an Elkhound. Kaname is a Shiba Inu. Shibas, despite their popularity in Japan as metropolitan pets, were originally bred as small game hunters. They're lean and sleek and incredibly fast, about as close to a fox in build and skill as you're ever going to see in a dog.

Kaname has a reputation as a ruthless hunter. My house, situated on a quarter acre on the edge of the village, has been her hunting ground for over a decade and she has an impressive trophy history. This is Florida, and all those stories you've heard about the wildlife here are true. There's a lot of it, and a lot of it is dangerous. Kaname has presented me with more dead carcasses of her enemies than I can count. Rats, rattle snakes, and yes, bunnies. But this isn't that story. This is the story of the inevitable march of time and how you know when you're not as young as you used to be. I'm just establishing that four years ago this would not be how my morning went down.

As I open the door and step out onto the patio I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Over by the front gate, out in the open for G-d and canis familiaris to see, is a small brown rabbit. The rabbit looks at me, his eyes narrowed in challenge. I stare him down like we're two gunmen at high noon. In my mind a tumbleweed rolls by. I draw in a breath.

"Get the bunny."

Like a gunshot, two wolves and a fox take off at high speed for the front gate. An Elkhound hunts in a very specific way, instinctually they will corner their prey, then signal with a loud bark to call the hunter.

A very loud bark. There are stories of Elkhounds cornering an elk and by the time the hunter has managed to reach the location, the elk has kicked just from the stress of being screamed at by wolf like dogs. Kaname has learned how to use that to her advantage. The Elkhounds can be relied on to corner the bunny, blocking off its escape so she can bag herself a trophy. Eirien goes left, Merilin goes right, Kaname goes straight up the middle.

The rabbit? He goes completely off the deep end. In a display of unnatural luck the rabbit tears off right, past Eirien who has a touch of glaucoma and a lot less enthusiasm about hunting than she had five years ago. In Eirien's defense she did make a stab at cutting off the rabbit but she couldn't see it that clearly and missed. A rabbit and three dogs head off across the back garden, do two laps around the massive Japanese maple at the center of my lawn, and then run toward the back gate like a merry parade of fur, loud barking, and stupidity. For reasons I'm not too clear on, none of my brilliant children think to double back around the tree, I stand and watch in fascination as absolutely no one makes a good decision.

As they reach the back gate I think to myself that the hunt is seconds from over, there's a gap under the back gate just big enough for a rabbit to slither under but as they reach the gate I see my neighbor's poodle, Luna, who has clearly heard the commotion and come to see why my dogs, who I do not allow to bark without censure, are now screaming loud enough to be heard downtown a mile away.

The rabbit makes a course correction, turning and heading back toward the front gate. About half way across the garden Eirien decides she is just too old for this crap and stops to say good morning to my other neighbor's dog, Max, who weighs about five pounds and has a huge crush on Eirien. As they flirt like two Vets at a VFW holiday swing dance, Kaname and Merilin move in on the bunny who is now crashing into my chainlink gate as if he can bend metal though sheer force of will.

The dogs are almost on him as he gives this up as a bad job, heading back toward the maple tree. Max and Eirien are still flirting, Luna is still at the back gate, barking excitedly at being left out of the fun. Somewhere on main street two holiday tourists at brunch are musing about why they can hear dogs barking so loudly. I'm considering hanging my sound canceling ear protectors on the coat rack in the lanai.

Two more laps around the tree and on the second lap the rabbit makes a dive into the shrubbery at the bottom and comes out the other side. Kaname skids up short and stuffs her head into the hollow at the base of the tree, convinced the rabbit has taken shelter. Merilin tramples over her, still in pursuit of her less than intelligent quarry who is now headed back to the front gate for the third time in less than two minutes.

It's clear that for the rabbit panic has set in. He might have chosen to go into the hollow in the maple, at which point I would have called off the dogs, he could have hidden in the shrubs by the back gate which are too thick and too deep for the dogs to reach and again I would have called them off. He might have just stayed over by the front gate to begin with and hid behind the HVAC. I wouldn't have been able to see him, the dogs certainly wouldn't have been able to see him and none of this would now be happening. As Merilin continues to shout at the top of her lungs I start to understand how elk have dropped dead from the sound. I'm certainly wishing my ears would fall off.

Merilin is almost on the rabbit when it finally finds a gap in the chainlink big enough to fit through.

And gets its fat bunny butt stuck half way.

Merilin skids up short. She looks at the rabbit, stuffed in the chainlink like Winnie the Pooh, then at me, her ecstatically cheerful brow furrowed in confusion. She has cornered the prey, isn't someone else supposed to do something?

Kaname's head is still in the hollow of the maple. There is now the faint whine of disappointment echoing from inside the trunk as she tries to determine how the rabbit has found a portal to another dimension inside a tree. Eirien and Max are still flirting. Luna has lost interest and has disappeared. It looks like it's just me then.

I drag my feet as I head to the front gate. "Leave it," I say. Immediately Merilin backs off two paces. The rabbit is still stuck in the chainlink but it's struggling less now, probably resigning itself to a horrible, sticky end. Merilin looks very pleased with herself, she has never gotten credit for the trophy before. The honor has always belonged to Kaname whose increasing volume of disappointment is still coming from inside the tree.

"I'm sorry," I say to Merilin. "But we're not torturing it to death." I reach down and shove the rabbit's round bottom through the chainlink.

Nothing happens. The stupid thing's wedged in there tight. 'Oh, help and Bother!' I spend nearly twice as long jimmying the rabbit out of my fence as the actual hunt took, all the while telling the rabbit that it's an idiot and it could use a few hours on the stair-master, pudgy moron. Finally success, it scurries the few feet to take shelter under my truck in the drive.

"And don't come back!" I bark at it. "Stay out there and be coyote breakfast like nature intended!"

The promise of breakfast must have jiggled sometime in the minds of the elkhounds who are waiting eagerly by the door, their perpetually delighted dispositions firmly in tact. Kaname is now trying to scale the tree, convinced the rabbit is still somewhere in its vicinity. It's three calls before she finally disengages. In fairness to her she's never been called off a hunt with the quarry still in the yard before. She doesn't know what to do. She's sitting in her bed now, sulking, probably thinking exactly what I'm thinking.

I'm just too old for this.

From Left to Right: Kaname, Eirien, and Merilin.

If you'd like to see more of my dogs, they have a Tumblr:

#nienna questions her life choices #occasionally about dogs #norwegian elkhound #shiba inu #puppies

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the-konoha-daily · 9 days ago

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❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

BREAKING NEWS: Konoha Transforms into a Winter Wonderland!

Citizens of Konoha woke up this morning to a holiday spectacle that could rival even the grandest festival at the Fire Daimyō’s court! Overnight, the Hidden Leaf transformed into a glittering Christmas wonderland, and no one seems to know how it happened—or more importantly, who is responsible.

Here’s what we do know:

The entire village is blanketed in a thick, pristine layer of snow, sparkling under the morning sun like diamonds. No storm warnings, no cold fronts—just an overnight miracle. Ninja magic? Most likely.

But that’s not all. Konoha has gone full-on festive with decorations that are as baffling as they are extravagant:

The Hokage Monument itself has joined in on the fun! The Shodai’s stony countenance now sports a massive Santa hat (which, mind you, looks expertly tailored).

The Nidaime has been humorously outfitted with reindeer antlers, while the Yondaime’s nose is glowing red.

And as for the Sandaime? He’s smoking a candy cane pipe with all the gravitas of a shinobi sage.

Not to be outdone, the Godaime’s face is draped in lush green garlands with red and gold accents—quite a regal touch, if we do say so ourselves.

The Hokage Tower has also undergone a festive makeover, glowing under thousands of holiday lights that change colors in a mesmerizing rhythm. If you listen closely, you can hear subtle jingles in sync with the display. Was this a Yamanaka-sponsored genjutsu, or just another day of ninja-level excellence?

And then, there’s the pièce de résistance: a 180-foot-tall Christmas tree in the heart of the market square. Its towering height and intricate decoration have left the villagers in awe. Early speculation points to Yamato-san—who else could create such a masterpiece from scratch? As for the ornaments, there’s a delicious rivalry at play:

One side of the tree is decked out entirely in pink ornaments, while the other boasts a sea of deep purples. Sources claim that Sakura Haruno and Ino Yamanaka are the culprits, their handiwork too obvious to deny. (Because, really, who else would turn holiday cheer into a competitive art project?)

The burning question remains: who orchestrated this grand display?

Rumors are swirling like snowflakes in a blizzard. Some believe it was Naruto Uzumaki who masterminded the operation, teaming up with Anko Mitarashi for maximum chaos and cheer. The pair was reportedly seen sneaking around the village last night, laden with oversized sacks that suspiciously resembled Santa’s.

Others suggest this was a Hokage-sanctioned mission to boost village morale—perhaps even funded by Kakashi Hatake himself. (A credible theory, considering his suspiciously relaxed demeanor this morning, accompanied by what appeared to be an iced peppermint latte.)

A more outrageous claim points to Lady Tsunade. After all, if anyone knows how to go big or go home, it’s the Godaime. However, when reached for comment, the Hokage Office provided a classic ninja response: a polite “No comment.”

Regardless of the mystery, one thing is certain: Konoha has never looked more magical. Children are gleefully making snowmen, shinobi are swapping candy cane-flavored ration bars, and the smell of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts wafts through the streets. Even the notoriously grumpy Morino Ibiki was spotted cracking a rare smile.

So, dear readers, grab a mug of hot cocoa and enjoy this festive phenomenon. And if you happen to spot Naruto, Anko, or anyone carrying suspiciously large amounts of mistletoe, do let us know. After all, we at Konoha Daily live to keep you informed—and entertained.

Happy Holidays, Konoha! Stay warm, stay scandalous, and stay tuned. 🎄✨❄️

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leiawritesstories · 1 year ago

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Stick Season (Part 3)

thanks for putting up with the writer's block lol :) if you've been reading this au, you have my heart and all my love (hehe because it's Noah Kahan...all right i'll stop) there will be one more part, maybe two :))

masterlist

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: talk of death/funerals, swearing, lots of emotions, tears, idiots in love (kind of?)

enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black wool peacoat cinched tightly around her waist, Aelin stood at her father’s side, her gloved hand in his, and stared vacantly at the square granite plaque that marked the site of her mother’s earthly remains.

Evalin Ashryver. Beloved Wife and Mother. May She Rest In Eternal Peace.

Rhoe placed his free hand against the plaque, leaned his head against the cold stone, and closed his eyes, the creases on his face more pronounced with sorrow. His lips moved silently, exchanging private words with his departed wife. Aelin remained steady at his side, surprised that she had been unable to shed any tears throughout the simple, poignant memorial service. Deep down, Aelin had loved her mother, and no amount of criticism or disapproval could completely quench that love.

“Aelin. Ae–Fireheart?” Rhoe’s voice broke through her reverie.

She shook her head. “I’m here.”

“Are you ready to go?” Her father’s question was nothing but kind.

“Yes.” She cast a final look at Evalin’s plaque, turned, and walked side by side with her father out of the mausoleum. “Dad?”

“Hmm?”

Aelin released a shaky breath. “I…Is it bad that I haven’t cried?” Worry creased her forehead. “I feel like a horrible daughter, but I haven’t cried. Or even really felt that sad.”

Rhoe stopped, faced his daughter, and took both of her gloved hands in his. “No, my Fireheart, it’s not bad.” He wrapped Aelin into a hug. “I know your relationship with your mother was…ah, complicated. It’s not bad that you haven’t shed any tears.”

Aelin felt her throat tighten at her father’s quiet reassurance. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too,” he returned, his words clogged with tears. “Perhaps someday you’ll feel like visiting her stone, and perhaps then you’ll cry. But maybe not.” He looped his arm back through hers. “It does not and never will make you a bad daughter.”

Rowan had needed to get out of the house–with all the cousins there, it was often a wild whirlwind of chaos, and his type-A personality couldn’t handle it 24/7. So Sellene and Enda had kicked him out, sending him into town with a short shopping list that ended up taking hours to complete.

It wasn’t his fault that he’d had to drive clear over to Rifthold to find a stand for the Christmas tree, because of course the only hardware store in the region that had tree stands in stock would be thirty miles away.

There was only one more item on the list, though, and Rowan had been avoiding it for as long as he possibly could. Why the fuck did Sellene want a book on “holistic herbal healing,” for gods’ sake? He was going to look like an idiot buying that. She’d left him a note saying Orynth Shelves had the book in stock, so at least he wouldn’t have to go terribly far, and Philippa–who owned that bookstore–was a sweetheart who’d known Rowan since he was a kid.

He glanced into the display window of the bookstore as he walked up the street and cracked a half smile. Philippa must have had some volunteers from the high school help with the holiday display, because she had great love and knowledge of books, but she did not have great knowledge of artistically pleasing book displays. Short stacks of holiday books, from classics like A Christmas Carol and How The Grinch Stole Christmas to modern novels with brightly colored covers sat atop a blanket of fake snow and mingled with little decorative log cabins, plastic pine trees, and even a ski lift. Soft yellow twinkle lights gave the charming display a cozy, small-town feel, and the whole effect was that of a little village in the mountains offering winter books galore for enjoyment. No, Philippa definitely couldn’t have planned and executed that display by herself.

Nobody was at the front desk when Rowan walked in, the bells on the front door jingling behind him. He headed straight for the section where Sellene had told him the book she wanted was, located the title, and plucked it off the shelf. And grimaced. It wasn’t ugly or obnoxious, but the words Holistic Herbal Healing for Beginners were lettered in large, decorative script on the cover. There would be no doubt what the book was. He muffled a sigh and walked back to the desk, hoping Philippa wouldn’t tease him too much about the damn book. The desk was still unattended, so he rang the little bell.

There was a rustle of papers from the office in the back, and a moment later–

“You’re not Philippa.” Before the words were fully out of his mouth, Rowan knew how stupid they sounded.

Aelin pressed her lips together, her characteristic sign of holding back laughter. “Sorry to disappoint.” She glanced at the book in his hand, and an irrepressible grin tugged at the corners of her lips despite her valiant effort to stifle it. “Getting into alternative medicine, hmm?”

“I–it’s not–huh?” Rowan’s brain finally caught up with the fact that Aelin had made a joke.

“It’s for Sellene, isn’t it?” She tapped the tablet in her hand.

“Yeah.” He passed her the book. “She’s had me running errands all over creation for hours. Had to drive all the way to Rifthold to find a fuckin’ stand for the tree.” Aelin scanned the book’s barcode, a small smirk curving her full, plush lips. Lips that Rowan still dreamed of tasting three years later. Pull it together, idiot! “This is the last thing on her list.”

“I didn't think she was into holistic herbal healing,” Aelin drawled. She glanced at the total. “That’ll be $12.99. Cash or card?”

How about I take you on a date instead? For some inexplicable reason, those were the first words on Rowan’s tongue. “Card.” Aelin nodded and slid a card reader across the desk. He tapped his credit card and the little reader flashed green.

“Thanks for coming to Orynth Shelves!” She handed him the receipt and gave him her brightest customer service smile.

He blinked. “Wait…are you actually working here?”

“Temporarily, yes.” She knew him too well–anyone else would have bristled at his question, thinking it offensive. “Since I’m home through New Year’s.” Unless he was seeing things (which was a very real possibility, considering that ninety-five percent of him still ached with love for Aelin Ashryver Galathynius), he could have sworn there was something deeper than exhaustion hiding beneath the smile and the paper-thin veneer of cheerful humor.

“Does that…you’re not alone, are you?”

“No.” She paused. “I’m with Dad, and Aedion decided he was going to crash at our house, so he’s there too.”

“Typical Aedion.”

“Yeah.” She cast him a glance that, as always, saw more than anyone else ever saw. “What about you? House full of wild children?”

“And adults,” he added with a wry grin.

She huffed a soft laugh. “No wonder you got the shopping list.”

“Should I be offended that you think I’m always the designated shopper?”

“Of course not. I know you too we–I know how you are with chaos.”

The words she hadn’t completely said trickled into the frozen corners of his heart, filling him with some kind of warmth. I know you too well. “I know you do.” He hadn’t meant to say it like that, in that soft, low voice he only ever used with her.

Raw longing flashed across her face, quickly muffled by blank, controlled politeness. “Thanks for visiting Orynth Shelves,” she repeated, this time in a whisper that cracked on the last word.

“Aelin,” Rowan breathed, feeling his pounding heart spill into his expression, “I want to see you again.” Because he did.

Three years without her was three years too long.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” she returned, conflicted.

He tucked the book under his arm and braced his hands flat atop the desk. “Since when have we done what other people think is the best idea?”

A single tear glittered in the corner of her left eye. “I’m going back to New York in less than a month, Rowan. I…even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t deserve to see you.”

The words stabbed him right through the heart. “Whoever told you that was spewing bullshit,” he said, his voice soft but firm with conviction.

She smashed her lips into a flat, tight line, keeping her composure from crumbling. “I…why?” The question just about broke her chest in half. “Why would you want to see me after what I did?”

“Because I lo–loved you.” It took all of his restraint to keep his hands where they were and not place his fingertips to her fallen face and lift her chin up. “Because you’re still the better half of my heart, and nobody will ever change that.”

“Ro,” she breathed, shakily. She lifted her eyes to his, and the depth of the grief in her gaze paired with that familiar nickname threatened to break him in two. “I’m…not sure.”

“I’m sure.” Damn his restraint to hell. He reached across the desk and, tentatively, placed his hand atop hers, the barest possible slice of contact. “Please, Ae.”

She drew in and released a deep, uneven breath. “Okay.” Beneath his hand, she turned hers over and flattened her palm against his. “When are you free?”

The Stone Castle, a restaurant in downtown Orynth that had been owned by Emrys since as long as Aelin could remember, was as warm, welcoming, and bustling as ever when she walked in the front doors on Friday evening. She’d worked there for a couple of years when she was in high school, and the place still felt the same.

“Miss Galathynius, as I live and breathe!” Emrys himself appeared from gods-knew-where and shook Aelin's hand warmly, his smile creasing his cheeks. “It’s been too long since you were home.”

“It really has.” She grinned at the jovial older man who cooked the best food in fifty miles. “New York can never compare.”

“You flatter me,” he chuckled. “Now don’t tell me–are you meeting a certain Mr. Whitethorn tonight?”

Her silence and rising blush was an answer in itself.

Emrys beamed. “You know where to find him, then.”

“You meddle far too much,” she teased, laughing wryly. “Thanks, Emrys.”

He winked. “Have a lovely evening, my dear.”

“I’ll do my best.” Aelin shed her heavy winter coat, hung it neatly on a peg in the coat room, adjusted her purse on her shoulder, and walked towards the back of the restaurant with her heartbeat suddenly hammering twice as fast and nervous questions clogging her mind. Should she have agreed to this–was it too soon? Was it too much? Would it be wrong to back out now?

“Hey.” As if he could sense her, Rowan was suddenly in front of her, steadying her with one large, warm hand on her upper arm. “You look gorgeous, Ae.”

A small smile curved her lips. “Thanks.” She linked her hand in his and let him lead her back to their table, the same booth they sat in every time they came to Emrys’s restaurant. “You clean up pretty well too, Rowan.”

He cracked a grin. “Would I sound desperate if I said I’ve missed you?”

A tiny corner of her iced-over heart melted. “Not at all.” Her grin turned softer. “I missed you too.” More than I’m ready to admit, she added, mentally.

Neither one of them needed to look at a menu, so a brief silence fell over their little booth before Rowan exhaled shakily and the question tumbled out of his lips. “Why, Ae?”

Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes at the way his simple, plaintive question sliced right through all the walls she’d built around her heart. “I…” Something she didn’t know how to name stopped her before she could rattle off her usual spiel about it wasn’t working anymore. “I let myself think too much,” she finally admitted, voice hoarse.

“Fireheart,” Rowan breathed, reaching instinctively for her hands but stopping himself–gods, the man had always been too perceptive.

Aelin linked her fingers with his, grounding herself in the solid, reassuring warmth of his rough palms. “On the drive home that day, I…my mother called, and she was…you know how Evalin could be sometimes.”

“Indeed.” His thumbs stroked idly over her knuckles. “So, she called you?”

“She didn’t try to hide her displeasure that I planned to stop at your house first,” Aelin murmured. “She…she was always finding some fault to pick at, some flaw to criticize, and I should have said I was farther away so she wouldn’t get on my ass about seeing you but I wasn’t thinking because I was so godsdamned happy to see you again so I just said I was going to your house, and then she told me I didn’t care about my own family and it just–” The sob she’d been strangling broke free, escaping as the first tear slipped down her cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Ae,” Rowan whispered. Gently, he reached up and caught her tears, brushing the salty crystal drops away from her cheeks. “You never should have had to go through that.”

“I let her get in my head,” she croaked. “I let her disapproval control me.”

He slipped around to her side of the booth, hesitantly offering to hold her. “She was never pleased with anything, was she, love?”

Aelin tucked herself into Rowan’s side, half in his lap, and pressed her face into his shoulder, an old familiar position in which he’d held her so many times before. “Never.”

The heat of her silent tears seeped into his sweater, but he didn’t give two shits about the clothing. He’d sacrifice his entire wardrobe if it meant holding her in his arms like this.

“I’m so sorry, Ro,” she murmured, raising her head to meet his open gaze, her turquoise eyes shrouded with tears. “I ruined everything–gods, I was so shallow, you probably still hate me for it.”

His heart cracked at the wavering insecurity hiding behind her words. “I have never hated you, Ae. Never.” He swept a stray tear from her cheek. “You shattered me when you drove past, yeah, but even that could never make me stop loving you.”

Breathless, she blinked, stunned to her core by his words. “You…what?”

“I love you, Aelin Galathynius.” His thumb traced her jawline. “To whatever end, right?”

“How?” she choked out, curling her fingers into his sweater like she was afraid this was all some kind of dream. “I broke us apart, Rowan.”

“And you’re putting us back together as we speak,” he said.

The pure conviction in his voice, and the love she’d always had from him but had been too protective of her heart to fully feel, seeped through the cracks in her armor and filled her depleted heart with warmth. “Are you sure?”

“With you? Always.”

She sniffled. “You’ve always been too good to me, love.”

“Impossible.” For the first time in three long years, he tipped up her chin and touched a whisper of a kiss to her lips. “Nothing can ever be too good for you, love.”

~~~

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